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by fairhearing



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Christmas, Comfort Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sappy, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairhearing/pseuds/fairhearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov brings Sulu home.  For the Sulu/Chekov Christmas advent countdown, for the prompt "Three French Hens."</p>
<p>Warnings for: explicit sex, toxic levels of h/c indulgence.  Shameless porn for both the nether regions and the dawww-loving heart, in my opinion.</p>
            </blockquote>





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Hikaru would learn much later, when they were back in space, that Pavel's aunt and uncle had actually planned on serving their traditional triple ballotine for Christmas Eve dinner -- turkey stuffed with goose stuffed with Cornish hen, imported from Normandy, de-boned and braised and roasted to a turn. Somehow, Pavel had used what little influence he had with his aunt and uncle to persuade them to consider Hikaru's vegetarianism, and how such a dish would traumatize him; and somehow it must have worked, because while they didn't go completely meatless -- as though they would sacrifice their generations-old feast, just for the picky anxieties of the boyfriend of a minor relative who himself was more nuisance than treasure -- the main dish was a more benign seared flounder, with an oversized salad next to it as a grudging allowance for the picky boyfriend.

But Hikaru didn't know about the change. He ate his salad and drank his wine and grinned as brightly as he could at Pavel's family from across their massive, crystal-set dining room table, forcing himself to keep smiling even as he noticed how Pavel's aunt and uncle treated Pavel like a servant, or an exchange student, virtually ignoring him throughout the whole meal. They asked him no questions about his three years in space, or about Hikaru, instead fawning over their own children -- Pavel's cousins, all much younger than he was -- with cooing approval and constant attention.

A few months ago Pavel had finally told him, with a self-conscious reluctance, how he'd been treated after his parents died and he'd gone to live with his aunt and uncle -- how they'd been cool to him, virtually indifferent, until his oldest cousin Danilo was born and they'd begun pretending he didn't exist. Yet some part of Hikaru hadn't really believed it until just now. How could anyone treat Pavel as less than a miracle -- look at him and be able to look away?

When dinner was over and the dishes all cleared, Pavel still hadn't told his family the news; but suddenly Hikaru didn't care. He took Pavel's hand and led him in silence through the gorgeously-decorated halls, up the garlanded winding staircase to their room  -- the room where Pavel had grown up, not small or drafty but separate from the rest, bare and cavernous and somehow cold, even with the manor's sophisticated state-of-the-art heating system.

"I'm sorry," Pavel said softly, as Hikaru slid under the covers next to him.

Hikaru gave him a surprised look.  "For what?"

"I didn't  -- the whole reason we came here -- I should have spoken up."  He shook his head and cursed under his breath.  "I always get like this when I come back to this place, like I'm a child again. I hate it.  And I know that even if I can get them to listen, they will just look at me that way they always do --"

"Shh," said Hikaru.  He pulled Pavel close, fiercely, and held him tight as he felt the first hot tears against his neck.  "You don't have to tell them anything."

They kept the lights out, but the deep drifts of snow outside, shining in the moonlight, made the room bright enough to see. And Hikaru wanted to see -- to see the white expanse of Pavel's soft skin laid out for him to taste, the smooth backs of Pavel's thighs drawn all the way back as Hikaru eased his way inch by slow inch into that tiny, shadowed dip, and then finally up to Pavel's face, into his wet eyes, to see each shift and wince and soft, shuddering breath as his body flexed in hot pulses around him, adjusting to him, welcoming him.

"Hikaru," Pavel whispered to him when he was ready; and Hikaru let out a soft, helpless moan before sinking down to cover Pavel completely.

Only his hips moved, drawing back and easing in to Pavel's body in steady thrusts. The rest of his body he kept sealed against Pavel's -- chest to chest, fingers entwined on the pillow, Pavel's legs locked tight around his back and Hikaru only pausing in their hot wet kisses long enough to breathe. When Pavel started to whimper into his mouth, Hikaru drew back just enough to slide a hand down between them and wrap it around Pavel's cock, to start rolling his hips hard and fast like Pavel needed.

"You don't have to tell anyone, baby, I'll tell the universe," he said, panting as he watched Pavel whine and thrash and fall apart beneath him.

"I'm going to marry you," he whispered, and Pavel cried out, tensing all around him, legs squeezing Hikaru's hips and hands scrabbling at his back as he spurted in a hot rush between them. Hikaru cradled him again afterward, even when he himself came, holding Pavel close and groaning into his hair as his hips worked themselves hard, as he emptied every drop into Pavel's body.

It took him some time to get back to himself. When he did, Pavel was still holding him, warm hands on his back, and Hikaru was still inside him, softening now, leaking a little when he pulled out. Snow was falling lightly outside the window. Just a flurry, but still the first snowfall Hikaru had ever seen.

When Hikaru glanced back down, Pavel was watching him. He was smiling; his eyes were shining with moisture.

"Even here," he whispered. "Even in this place, you make me so warm, Hikaru."

Hikaru couldn't say anything. He could only draw the covers over them both, pull Chekov against his chest and kiss his curls in the light from the falling snow. As if that warmth could compare to what Pavel deserved, or to what Pavel had given him -- light in the darkness of black space, greens in the place of game, a Christmas gift of their lives together.

  


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